


This is How We Roll

by tabulaarasa



Category: Kingdom Keepers - Ridley Pearson
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabulaarasa/pseuds/tabulaarasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories of the Keepers at any points in their lives, canon or not. Drabble #1 preview: Willa/Philby - "He looked at me, with those deep-set, tired green eyes—eyes that pleaded with me to listen, to hear him out. To forgive him. And again, it was all I could do not to melt under his gaze. Or slap him across his face."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bitter End

“No, wait! Come back!” he called behind me, frustration tainting his accented words.

I didn’t turn around, didn’t slow down. All I did was walk away, one foot after the other, too eager to put a great distance between a certain red head and me. 

I wasn’t far enough that I heard him curse under his breath. I heard the rustle of clothes as he lifted his arms to rub his freckled face with his hands and run his fingers through wild curls, like I know he does when he’s irked. “ _Please_ ,” he begged, “I can explain.”

 Fists clenched, my footsteps faltered, almost causing me to trip over. A shot of anger pierced straight through me, I could feel the red rage starting to rush through my bloodstream. I felt my eyebrow twitch and it was all I could do to stop myself from turning around. I failed. I guess I didn’t have enough self-restraint than I thought I would’ve.

I whirled around, “Then explain.” I snapped through clenched teeth. I wanted to yell at him, to scream how stupid he sounded just now and how idiotic it was for him to think that an _explanation_ could justify everything he’s done.

He looked at me, with those deep-set, tired green eyes—eyes that pleaded with me to listen, to hear him out. To forgive him. And again, it was all I could do not to melt under his gaze.

Or slap him across his face.

“I didn’t mean to do what I did,” He started out lamely, “It just _happened.”_  

“Oh my God,” I nearly yelled, one step away from calling him out on his bullshit. Did he _really_ think that that was the way to start an explanation? Not to mention, it was the most vague thing to say.

“It’s not my fault!” He protested, ultimately knowing it was the dumbest reasoning.

“Oh, it’s not?” I barked out harshly, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “If I recall, for most of it, _you_ were responsible.” 

“Look—”

“No, you look, Philby.” I interrupt, too furious with him to even hear him out anymore. My mind raced a thousand words per second, and I couldn’t think over my own shouting. “Your selfishness and coldness almost caused us a _life.”_

Philby’s mouth opened, ready with another explanation. But the words on his lips were short lived. In his eyes, I could see the realisation of almost being responsible for someone’s death hit him; the idea that he would’ve been a murderer placed a heavy burden on that sea of green. His lips pressed into a tight line. 

“Yeah,” I said softly, “I bet that never crossed your mind.”

“No.” He said finally. “It didn’t.”

“You knew what you were getting yourself into with them, Philby.” I continue, “You were a _Keeper…_ or at least, that’s what we thought. You almost killed your friend. You betrayed us.”

I looked at him, my anger slowly fading away. Only, this time, what replaced it was so much worse. Because this time I was a target for an arrow of pain and sorrow, and the one pulling the bow was none other than the boy standing in front of me. And as much as I wished he had a horrible aim, the arrow struck through straight and clear.

 And it was all that I felt.

 I stepped closer, disregarding all the space I hoped to put between us. And yet, when our faces were right within our reaches, he couldn’t feel farther away. Our worlds have never been more distant than at this moment.

 “This game of deception…” I whisper. Then shrug, “Philby, you’re a master of it.” 

“I never meant…” He trailed off, already knowing that he’s tried this excuse. He knows I’ve heard this argument too many times before. He sighed in defeat, “I just want you to know…this was a game I never wanted to play.” 

I shook my head. I didn’t have the courage to meet his eyes, too afraid that whatever I saw there, would break me some more until I could no longer be put together again. “You played it anyway.” I laughed, but it was empty, “You played us all.” 

He was silent. And I couldn’t take it. I had too much to say. I wanted a fight. I just someone to take away the hurt inside of me now. Even if it meant asking the one person who let the hurt bloom in the first place, to do it.

“You haven’t even apologised for what you did.” I mutter, mentally kicking myself for sounding like a child.

“I have,” he whispered, “But you never heard me. If I apologised again, to you, I know you wouldn’t think I was sorry.”

“How can I?” I said, hating the quaver of my voice.

“Exactly, how could you?” He murmured before slipping back into silence.

I still couldn’t handle the quiet.

“How can you be so calm about this?” I said. The accusation in my voice was too obvious for anyone to miss it.

I imagined him cringing, I imagined that I’d hurt him and then imagined that I hurt him some more. So at least, he’ll know half of what I felt. 

“How can you feel nothing? After all you’ve done.” I almost yell, desperate to get anything out of him and at the same time, I was too anxious to turn on my heel and walk away again. But somewhere in the back of my mind, something told me to settle this for good. So I didn’t have to see him ever again, no matter how loud my heart screamed.

I was about to yell at him again when he cut me off, “How can you say I don’t feel anything?” He whispers, his voice lashed out sharply, “Try to imagine what I feel, knowing that I’m not worthy of anyone’s trust, knowing that I can never see my friends’ faces again because they hate the very existence of me, and they wish to see me dead. Imagine what I feel when I think of how the one person I loved, was the one I hurt the most.”

I didn’t have anything to say. I didn’t know _what_ to say. The fact that he was aware of what he’s done and sorry for it…could have been my sole comfort. But no, he’d only made the sting of pain inside of me throb even harder.

I shook my head, a question in my mind I wasn’t sure I wanted an honest answer for. “Philby…was anything real to you?” I whispered.

I just needed to know, even if he played us all and if everything he did was all a well-presented lie…if whatever the hell was between meant anything. Because my sleepless and tear-filled nights couldn’t have been for something that was never really there. I needed it to have been for something. If it wasn’t…

 _‘No!’_ My mind screamed.

It was almost all of a sudden, that the idea of learning the truth was too much bear. And like my body had a mind of it’s own, my feet turned me around and walked away. But a cold, firm hand shot out and gripped my arm, halting my hurried steps. 

I looked at his hand, wrapped just below my elbow, and the memory of his hands around mine, lips brushing against my own, and arms around me, jolted through my body and washed away all the happiness I could ever and will ever have felt. Leaving me with only the darkness of sorrow. 

Somehow, my eyes found his and I wanted to break for it. Those very emerald eyes, that had mesmerised me and fooled everyone, now gazed at me with a shattering agony that said that whatever I felt, he felt it ten times worse. But here I am, still unable to find it within me to feel a bit of sympathy for him.

“Yes.” He whispered, his voice breaking and his cheeks shimmered as tears ran down and stained his face. And then he said my name, “Willa…" 

Whatever wall protected me from bursting was ruined. I became undone. A sob escaped from my throat and I felt his hands loosen its grip on my arm.

Then he let me go. And I bolted. 


	2. Or Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I sighed, trying to conceal my amusement, and dropped down on one knee. I could feel Amanda’s eyes follow my movement with confusion, the curiosity in her gaze bored into my chest...Her next few words told me she was wide-awake. “What the hell are you doing?”" One-shot. Set in the future and only rated-T for language. R&R!

"I look ridiculous." Amanda muttered, struggling to walk on her nude-coloured high heels.

She did look ridiculous. Jess and Charlene had stolen her from me for hours, only to give her back in an absurd green dress—it's cold as hell outside—and a face that resembled a clown's: too done-up.

Even so, I told her, "Nah, you look hilarious." She gave me a pointed look. "I was kidding, you look stunning." I shot her a wink and she shook her head, trying to hide a smile.

"Have I ever complimented you on your sense of humour, Whitman?"

"Not today you haven't." I grinned at her, pulling her body closer to mine. It was partially to keep her warm despite the coat I gave her. But I wouldn't be lying if I said I just wanted her near.

Call me overly attached or whatever, see if I cared.

Either way, underneath all the make-up Charlie and Jess slapped on her face, I knew that the same freckled, pale-green eyed girl was there, and ready with another witty remark about my clothes or jab at the way I wouldn't leave her side. She was the same brunette that I inevitably fell in love with. Undoubtedly, she was that same headstrong girl who told me that 'it was about time,' when I finally asked her on a date. And if I knew her at all, she was ready to rub the make-up all off.

"Where are you taking me anyway?" Amanda asked, her face was an open book of loathing for her shoes. She scowled down at them and muttered, "Damn things are killing me."

"Nowhere." I admitted simply.

"Are you kidding me?" The pitch of her voice rose just a bit. It was obvious she was ticked off. Even though she wasn't glaring right at me, I knew that a twinkle of anger was clear in her eyes and the corners of her lips were turned down. And I didn't feel the least bit guilty that I was responsible for it. Because it meant that things were going according to plan.

"We could stop here." I suggested nonchalantly.

"You can bet we're stopping here." She said, crossing her arms and halting her footsteps. She rooted herself to the spot, a single addition to the lush, dew-soaked greens of a park just beginning to awaken behind her. I couldn't care less about the garden when Amanda stood right before me, the sole sun that seemed to brighten up the whole world. Or, well, maybe that could be reduced to just mine.

"Okay then." I said, facing her, trying to look as if I wasn't bothered by it—and I wasn't. I just loved it when she was mad…though not when she's angry with me.

"Okay, Finn, why in the world did you bring me outside of my cave and let Charlene and Jess wake me up at the most ungodly hour to work on me for hours? Do you know how much I wanted to hit them?" Amanda demanded, her eyes narrowing and her nose scrunched up the way I know it does when she wants an answer.

"Hey, I never agreed to Charlene and Jess—" I started.

But Amanda cut me off, "Oh please don't tell me you just wanted to take me out on a 'morning stroll.'" She scoffed. "We both know that's a load of crap."

"That's true—"

"We could be asleep right now, Finn." Amanda exclaimed. "And oh man, are you making me miss my shows?"

I rolled my eyes. "Your shows aren't even for another hour—"

"Yeah, I know," Amanda said, rolling her eyes at me as if I was incapable of grasping the depth of the situation. "But I don't want to miss anything because apparently, shit's going down. Oh god. We could've at least gone to buy coffee."

I sighed, trying to conceal my amusement, and dropped down on one knee. I could feel Amanda's eyes follow my movement with confusion, the curiosity in her gaze bored into my chest.

At that point, I barely registered what she'd been saying and tuned in only to hear her trail off. But her next few words told me she was wide-awake. "What the hell are you doing?"

I looked up at her, beaming uncontrollably, loving that my smile only heightened the suspicion in her bright eyes. I wanted to laugh, but I just might've just gotten a kick to the ribs by the tip of a high heel.

Amanda's full lips were parted, looking as if she was about to blurt out another snarky comment aimed my way. Her brow was cocked in barely concealed amusement, waiting for me to make my next move.

"You holding up down there?" She asked, the pleasure of seeing me wobble on one knee to keep my balance filled her voice.

"Yep," I said. "Don't worry about me."

"So what's this about?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, I just thought that I could hear you better down here."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how things work." She countered, but that amused smirk never left lips.

"Don't be such a downer, you'll never know if you don't try." I said, inviting her to kneel with me.

"No thanks, I'm good up here." She winked.

Out of the blue, I blurted, "Hey, what if I told you I wanted to marry you or something?"

I almost collapsed on the ground then. The look on her face was priceless and exactly what I aimed for—round eyes bulging, ready to pop out of their sockets and smirk vanishing, replaced by a delicate 'o' shape form of her lips. She looked like a fish out of water, unable to breathe.

But in a flash, her expression seamlessly changed back into that sly, delighted smirk that always made her look like she'd won something. "Smooth, Whitman." She simply said. "But I think you forgot one thing."

Playing a fool, I replied innocently, "Forgot what?"

Oh man, I'm having too much fun with this.

"The rock."

"Ah," I said, feigning realisation. I held up my index finger, telling her to wait a moment. Amanda nodded and her eyes trailed after me as I reached into a conveniently placed rust-coloured pot to my left. I pretended to dig for something, and then held up a tiny box decorated with clumps of soil that clung to its body.

Amanda's sly smirk was replaced by a soft stretch of her lips; this smile was genuine—void of all the sass and snark, only full of genuine heart-warming joy. I've only seen this smile during the comfortable, quiet moments when we sat down on an overly stuffed couch in our apartment, with my arm around her shoulder and her head resting against it. It was a smile that was flashed over hot chocolate at midnight, worn with sweatshirts and loose pyjama pants.

"Oh." She said. But then, "And here I was, half-expecting you were actually going to pull out a real rock."

"I didn't say what was inside of this thing, did I?" I reminded her and grinned.

"Well, open it." Amanda said softly. By the way she tried to hide her fidgeting fingers under the long sleeves of my coat, I could tell that she was anxious to find out what was really inside that box—to find out if I was being serious the entire time.

And sure enough, I was.

I flipped open the lid and inside, protected by plush foam, rested a silver ring. Its tiny diamonds gleamed, in spite of the blue-grey sky at dawn. At the centre of the ring, was an eye-catching light fern-green diamond, its body sprung from a rose and hugged by its metallic petals. I didn't want to overdo it. Amanda would've murdered me if I had. Instead, I went all cheesy and bought a ring that matched those mischievous eyes of hers.

Amanda gasped. "So, is that a yes?" I cocked my brow, grin still in place.

"I don't know," Amanda shrugged, but there was a smile on her face that matched my own. "Why don't you put the ring on and find out?"

I gladly got to my feet and stepped forward, grabbing the slim, capable hand Amanda stretched out. My heart thumped erratically against my chest, too giddy with the idea of slipping the ring on her finger before I actually did it. I could feel the flush of my heated cheeks and knew that there was no way of wiping that stupid smile off my face.

When I finally managed to stop the shakiness of my hands, I slipped the ring on her finger effortlessly. I let go of a big breath I never knew I was holding in because Amanda, the ring, that unmistakable glow on her features—it was perfection. I've experienced a lot of magical things in the past, but seeing Amanda blush as she held her hand out to look at the ring on her finger that fit completely, the happiness on her face spoke volumes. And I swore that this was the most authentic kind of magic in the whole galaxy.

Yeah, galaxy.

"What do you think?" I asked, my eyes unable to look away from her. I ducked my head low and rested my forehead against the top of her head. Those heels of hers gave her an extra few inches.

"It's pretty" was all she said. And I knew she loved it. She looked up at me from underneath those thick lashes of hers. "You didn't steal this, did you?"

"Why?" I hooked my arm around her waist and pulled her close. The tips of our noses touched and Amanda titled her head ever so slightly. I chuckled, "You're not planning on running away with it, are you?"

The corners of her lips curved into a coy, cat-like smile. She lifted her head closer and I could feel her warm breath tease my lips. "Can't." She said and inched even nearer. "I'm in heels, I'm not going to get that far."

And she smiled, even through the kiss. That soft, familiar feeling of her addictive mouth against mine told me what screamed through her mind from the moment I knelt down, giving purpose to our not-so pointless walk:

Yes, a thousand times over, dumdum.


End file.
